Just as she was about to scold him, his lips that were even more beautiful than a girl's had already fallen upon hers...
Time seemed to stop.
For Tang Xinrou, every minute and every second had a new feeling.
When everything was over, Tang Xinrou needed to lean into An Feiran's embrace so that she wouldn't fall to the ground; her legs felt weak.
She...was out of breath.
There was a light scent on the boy's body. It was like a mix of ink and books, and it smelled especially good.
It was also reassuring.
From what Tang Xinrou knew, An Feiran was meant to be shy, thin, and weak. But now that she was leaning against his chest, separated by the fabric of his shirt, she realized how ridiculous her knowledge was.
It wasn't very pronounced, but there were slight muscle lines that belonged to the sturdiness and vigor of a young man.
He was surging with power.
